


Car Trouble

by spikesgirl58



Series: ABBA/Foothills [67]
Category: Man from Uncle - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-12
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-25 05:30:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/635609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Illya warned him not to leave the keys in the ignition, but Napoleon forgot.  Now his car is nowhere to be seen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Car Trouble

Napoleon wandered out the door of the store and took a deep breath.  Spring was in the air.  The sun was warm on his face, the wind was kind and he had a bag full of wonderful cheeses that he couldn’t wait to share with his partner and lover. 

The cheese store was still fairly new, but it had taken Napoleon a month or so to get around to visiting it.  Between his tasting room/wine store during the day and the restaurant at night, his time was filled.  On their days off, Napoleon preferred to stay in the company of Illya.

Today, however, had been different.  Illya had his own chores around town and Napoleon decided it was now or never.  He grabbed the car and headed over here.

Whistling a jaunty tune, he walked into the parking lot and stopped, frowning.  He could have sworn he parked by the planter.  He remembered making a comment to Illya as he climbed out.

His car was gone…

“Damn it,” Napoleon swore.  He set the bags and began to pat his pockets in search of his keys.  A sinking feeling grew in his stomach when he realized he didn’t have them.  Years of habit were hard to break, even after being de-trained.  When he was an agent, you were taught to leave the keys in the ignition for a fast getaway.

“Napoleon, you can’t go leaving your keys in the car.”  He could hear Illya arguing with him.  It had been just last night in fact.

“Why not?  This isn’t New York.  It’s Jackson.  It’s not like anyone else in Jackon has a Town car.”

“We still have crime here and you don’t need to leave yourself open like this.  Take your keys or don’t come crying to me if your car vanishes one day.”

Napoleon had made some smart ass comment and went on his way.  A car pulled up and the window rolled down.

“Hey, Napoleon, what’s going on?”  Craig Sanders was the chief of police in Jackson and he took his job seriously.

“Chief, I have to report a crime.  Looks like my car has been stolen.”

“You’re kidding!  What’s the license plate?”

Napoleon recited the plate along with the make and model and listened with a heavy heart as the chief called it in.  He loved his old car and hoped that whoever stole it wouldn’t wrap it around a tree or strip it for parts.

“Okay, Napoleon.  If the car is in Jackson or thereabouts, my men will be on the lookout for it.”

“Thanks, Craig.  You wanna call Illya for me.”

“After the way he lectured you about your car keys?  Not for all the money in the world.” 

“To protect and serve, remember?”  Napoleon pointed to the side of the police car.  “Illya will kill me.”

“It doesn’t say anything about getting my fool neck broken instead of you.”

Napoleon watched the patrol car drive away and sighed.  There was nothing to do, but call Illya now.”

He walked back to the cheese shop and sat down at one of the tables.

“May I bring you something, sir?”  The server seemed impossibly young.

“What sort of wines do you pour?”  He was handed a menu and he made a selection.

It arrived and he sipped it.  It had been such a nice day, too.  With a sigh, Napoleon took his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed Illya’s number.

“Yeah?”   The voice was curt.  Illya hated cell phones.

“ _Cara_ , I have some bad news.  My car was just stolen.”

“It was, was it? Are you sure?  How did that happen?”

“I guess I must have left the keys in the ignition and someone took it.  You were right and I was wrong.  If I promise to eat humble pie tonight, will you come and pick me up?”

There was a long pause.   “It wasn’t stolen.  I dropped you off.  Remember?

Napoleon closed his eyes.  “I do now.  Okay, I’m ready to be picked up then.”

“And I will be over to do that… just as soon as I convince this nice police officer pointing a gun at me that I didn’t steal your car…”

 


End file.
